


Tiny Bubbles

by Caro Dee (Caro_Dee)



Series: Insatiable [12]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Food Sex, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 17:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1557947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caro_Dee/pseuds/Caro%20Dee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Jim has champagne after his sexual epiphany about sentinel senses...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tiny Bubbles

The first time Jim has champagne after his sexual epiphany about sentinel senses, his eyes widen, he draws in a startled breath, and gets champagne down his windpipe. 

"Jesus, Jim!" Blair rescues the tilting champagne flute, hands it off to a passing waiter and pounds him on the back. "Breathe, okay? Just breathe."

Jim is too busy multitasking -- coughing around the burning sensation and glaring the surrounding party goers into _looking somewhere else damn it!_ \-- to shove Blair away in annoyance. As if he didn't know that breathing was an issue right now and the pounding was _not_ helping, Sandburg!

Blair reads his red-faced glare anyway and backs off, grinning, hands raised. "Hey, sorry. Excuse me for caring."

Left in peace, Jim coughs his lungs clear and straightens up to catch nearby guests still staring. His eyes narrow and they quickly turn away, ignoring him as he gathers his dignity. 

After a few minutes, Jim snags another glass of champagne and takes a careful, controlled swallow. The excited fizzing in his mouth makes him smile and he spends the rest of the evening teasing himself with the tiniest sips and enjoys the slow, heavy thrumming of his half-hard cock.

It seems to take forever before Blair's ready to leave, and then the ride home where Blair goes on and on about the two phone numbers he scored and weighing the competing charms of both women. He's still talking as Jim unlocks the loft door but Jim's had enough and his raised eyebrow has Blair retreating to his room with a cheerful goodnight.

Blair putters in there for another hour, until Jim is almost ready to give up, go to bed and just jerk off, but he's too intrigued with the idea and too stubborn to let Blair win.

Finally, Blair goes to bed. As soon as his slowed breathing confirms he's asleep. Jim is out the door and heading to the liquor store three blocks away. He picks a bottle of champagne off the shelf and declines the store clerk's suggestion of chilled champagne from the refrigerated case.

Back at the loft, he quietly and gingerly pokes through the stacked miscellanea in the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet until he finds what he's looking for. He pulls down the ceramic loaf pan that Carolyn forgot when she moved out, eyeballs its dimensions and decides it'll work. Grabbing the champagne in the other hand, he retreats to his bedroom.

Jim sets the pan in the center of the small area rug next to his bed and the champagne bottle on the wood floor within easy reach. Then he strips off his clothes and tosses them carelessly on the bed in his eagerness to get started. His cock is swelling and he can the throb of his heart beating faster throughout his body.

He kneels on the rug and shifts around until his balls are comfortably situated in one end of the pan and there's room for his cock. He takes a deep breath and reaches out with his senses to Blair sleeping downstairs. He almost feels the click as his control locks into place and then there's no more need for patience.

Reaching for the bottle, he strips off the foil and then pops the cork. The foam explodes up and he tilts the bottle to pour it over his cock.

The sudden explosion of sensation around his genitals is so intense that his eyes roll up and he loses his balance and falls forward, catching himself on his free hand. The shift in position pulls him up and away from the champagne except for the tip of his cock, which is nice but not nearly enough. Gritting his teeth, Jim straightens as much as he can and edges himself back into place. Oh, Jesus, _yes!_ Oh, _fuck._ This is good, this is _so_ good. He never wants this to stop.

Jim bites his lip and rides the intensity carefully until the fizzing slows down. When it's low enough that he can think again - and he doesn't want to think when he can feel -- he puts his thumb over the opening of the bottle and shakes it lightly to bring up the foam again and fills up the last inch of the pan. Oh, _yeahh..._ here we go again!

When that dies down again, there's no room for more champagne and he's forced to raise the dial to get close to the same amount of stimulation. It's different now, not as intense, more delicate and ticklish. He can play with the dials and focus on individual bubbles or one sensitive spot instead of the overwhelming chaotic explosion of sensation from before.

His cock is rock hard and he can see the small globs of pre-cum floating in the champagne, being bounced around between bubbles. The hardness of his cock is actually a problem because it's lifting up out of the liquid and straining towards his belly. With the tip of his finger on the head, Jim gently pushes the entirety of his cock below the surface. Yes, that's better.

Thousands of bubbles gather on the underside of his cock and balls. Each bubble is a mini-caress, a tingling clinging and sliding over the surface of sensitized skin until it travels along the surface to where it can break free and pop to the surface. 

Jim raises the dial and raises it again, his hips and thighs making the subtlest of shifts, just enough to keep the effervescence moving, flowing over and around him. His quietly vehement cursing picks up the pace as the sensation builds, his balls draw up and then he comes with a long, low grunt as his spunk spurts up and out into the champagne. His vision whites out as his orgasm fills his world, all his focus, except for the tiny bit locked on Blair, is on the ecstasy of his genitals pulsing again and again and again...

When he comes back to awareness, he first feels the joy of his whole body singing, then he becomes aware of dampness around his knees and curses half-heartedly because he's knocked the champagne over. He'd be annoyed if he could but he just feels too good to bother. He just wants to crawl into bed and sleep but the rug has to go into the washing machine first. At least, he can dry it in the morning. Clearly, there are some logistics to work through.

Because he is definitely do this again. Definitely.

* * *

It turns out that seltzer water is a much cheaper alternative than champagne and doesn't have the weird underlying chemical scent of sodas. A precise ten minutes in the refrigerator gives it a pleasing coolness without the cold shower effect and Jim has found his favorite summer treat.

Best of all, Blair approves of Jim's new healthy beverage choice. Jim can openly head up to his room with a bottle of seltzer and a camouflage glass of ice cubes and Blair never has a clue why Jim is grinning all the way up the stairs.


End file.
